Chapter 26 #2
Lily was back less than a minute later, breathing heavily as she thrust a large blue tarp in my direction. I accepted it, then shook it open and spread it on the floor next to the man. I rolled him onto it, his limbs flopping lifelessly.
A soft sound behind me drew my attention, and I cast a quick glance toward Lily, who looked like she was ready to pass out. I jumped up, grabbing her around the waist as she wavered on her feet.
“It’s okay.” I guided her to the couch and pressed down on her shoulders. She sank onto the cushion and dropped her head forward, cradling it in her hands.
The guilt of taking a life had finally caught up to her. I knew I shouldn’t cast stones at glass houses and all that, but I was somewhat reassured by the fact that she wasn’t completely unaffected by having taken someone’s life.
I squatted next to her and ran a hand gently up and down her back. “Just breathe, nice and slow.”
She did as I ordered, dragging in deep, even breaths. When she finally sat upright a few moments later the color had returned to her face.
I peered at her. “You good?”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“You don’t have to do this,” I said. “I can take care of it.”
“No.” Her hair fell loosely around her face as she shook her head. “This is all my fault.”
“You did what you had to do.” I gently cupped her chin in one hand and directed her focus to me. “You saved yourself. That’s all that matters.”
She nodded a little at my words. Satisfied that she was okay, at least for now, I moved toward the man. Bending down, I grabbed the corners of the tarp and yanked. The tarp caught for a second on the rug, then finally began to slide more easily across the polished wood floors.
The man’s body was heavier than I anticipated, especially in my weakened state.
Every tug felt like fire ripping through my muscles, but I gritted my teeth and kept going.
Without a word Lily appeared by my side and extracted a corner of the tarp from my hands.
With her helping, the process went much more smoothly.
She remained by my side, her expression inscrutable as we dragged him through the dense underbrush toward the woods. When we reached a suitable spot, she turned without a word and headed back toward the house.
I leaned against a tree, catching my breath, my ears tuned to the woods around me, searching for anything out of place. The occasional small animal rustled through the brush and birds flitted from branch to branch, calling to one another overhead. Otherwise, the forest remained quiet and calm.
It wasn’t long before she returned, two shovels in hand.
We worked in silence, the only sounds the scrape of metal against soil and the occasional rustle of leaves.
Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows over the growing hole.
My body ached with every movement, but I didn’t stop.
When the hole was deep enough, we rolled the man in. His bulk hit the earth with a dull thud. For a moment neither of us moved. I watched Lily from the corner of my eye, waiting for a reaction.
But if I thought she was going to break down, I was bound to be disappointed. She just picked up her shovel and started filling the hole. I followed her lead, and the dirt piled over him quickly. When we were finished, I tamped the soil down with the flat of the shovel and stepped back.
Lily stood beside me, her face pale and drawn, her hands trembling with exhaustion and the weight of what we’d done. Silence hovered between us for several seconds before she spoke. “Thank you.”
For a second, I thought she might say something—anything—to explain the man’s presence. Instead she just turned and started walking back toward the house.
I followed her, my mind racing. The man’s friends would come looking when he didn’t return. I needed to get rid of the car, erase any evidence that he’d ever been here.
Inside I went straight to the sink and scrubbed my hands, the cold water biting against the blisters that had formed and broken on my palms. The house seemed eerily quiet, the air heavy with unspoken words.
I turned off the faucet, dried my hands, and looked at Lily. She stood next to the kitchen table, her arms crossed over her chest. She stared back at me, her eyes unreadable.
“Who was he?”
Though my words were quiet and calm, she flinched and glanced down at the floor. She was silent so long that I thought she’d refuse to tell me.
“My name’s not actually Lily.”
My eyebrows arched upward at the information before I quickly smoothed my expression.
“It’s—it was—Ember Pearson.” Her gaze lifted to mine. “That man is Storme… and I killed his brother.”
The words began to pour out and soon, she’d relayed the entire story—how she’d run from the compound after the fire and eventually found her way to Pine Ridge.
I nodded slowly, digesting everything she’d told me. It was good news and bad. I was relieved that it wasn’t one of Arana’s men. They surely wouldn’t have hesitated to kill her. On the other hand, it meant they could still be out there, tracking me and waiting for an opportunity to bring me back.
One person had already found us. We needed to leave.
“Pack your things.”
She blinked, her expression rapidly shifting from bewilderment to confusion to anger. “Wait. What?”
“We need to leave,” I said, tossing the towel onto the counter. “Now. We don’t have time to discuss this.”
Lily’s voice rose several octaves. “Why? He’s dead—I killed him!”
I ignored the tense note of hysteria in her voice. “That doesn’t mean he’s the only one looking for us.”
“I…” She snapped her lips together, and I could practically see the wheels turning behind her expressive eyes. “That means… Those men you were talking about—”
“Not now,” I said shortly. It felt like we’d already been here too long. I didn’t want to be caught off guard again.
“But—”
“No,” I snapped, cutting her off. “You’ve got five minutes.”
Her mouth opened, eyes shooting fire. Abruptly she snapped her mouth shut and whirled on a heel, then stormed out of the kitchen. I stood there, gripping the edge of the counter, trying to steady the storm raging inside me.
She knew I was right. Still, the way she glared at me made it clear this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.